PS 




t 



ARTHUR 
RANSOME 



THE SOLDIER 
& DEATH 



A RUSSIJ.V FOLK TALE 




Class "PS ?>S' 5 5 

COPyHIGHT DEPOSIT. 



THE SOLDIER & DEATH 



THE 

SOLDIER AND DEATH 

A RUSSIAN FOLK TALE 
TOLD IN ENGLISH BY 

ARTHUR RANSOME 




NEW YORK B. W. HUEBSCH, Inc. mcmxxu 



COPYRIGHT. 1922, BY 
B. W. HUEBSCH, Inc. 



PRINTED IN U. S. A. 



^^' 






'9^''a^-^ 



■H l3;/j 



ClAe90009 



A SOLDIER served God and the Great 
Tzar for twenty-five years, earned 
three dry biscuits, and set off to walk 
his way home. He kissed his com- 
panions with whom he had served so 
long, and boasted of the feasting 
there would be in the village when 
he should come marching home with 
all his wars behind him. Singing at 
the top of his voice he was as he set 
off. But as soon as he was alone on 
the high road, walking through the 
forest he began to think things over. 
And he thought to himself: "All 
these years, I have served the Tzar 
and had good clothes to my back and 

[7] 



my belly full of victuals. And now 
I am like to be both hungry and cold. 
Already I've nothing but three dry 
biscuits." 

Just then he met an old beggar, 
who stood in the road and crossed 
himself and asked alms for the love 
of God. 

The soldier had not a copper piece 
in the world, so he gave the beggar 
one of his three dry biscuits. 

He had not gone very far along 
the road when he met a second beg- 
gar, who leant on a stick and re- 
cited holy words and begged alms 
for the love of God. 

The soldier gave him the second 
of his three dry biscuits. 

And then, at a bend In the road, he 
met a third old beggar, with long 
[8] 



white hair and beard and loathsome 
rags, who stood shaking by the road- 
side, and he begged alms for the love 
of God. 

"If I give him my last dry biscuit 
I shall have nothing left for myself," 
thought the soldier. He gave the 
old beggar half of the third dry bis- 
cuit. Then the thought came into 
his head that this old beggar would 
meet the other two, and would learn 
that they had been given whole bis- 
cuits while he had only been given a 
half. ''He will be hurt and af- 
fronted," thought the soldier, "and 
his blessing will be of no avail." 
So he gave the old beggar the other 
half also of the third of his three dry 
biscuits. "I shall get along some- 
how," thought the soldier, and was 

[9] 



for making forward on his way. But 
the old beggar put out his hand and 
stopped him. 

"Brother," says the old beggar, 
"are you in want of anything?" 

"God bless you," says the soldier, 
looking at the beggar's rags, "I want 
nothing from you. You're a poor 
man yourself." 

"Never mind my poverty," says 
the old beggar. "Just tell me what 
you would like to have, and I am 
well able to reward you for your kind 
heart." 

"I don't want anything," said the 
soldier, "but, if you do happen to 
have such a thing as a pack of cards 
about you, I'd keep them in memory 
of you, and they'd be a pleasure to 
me on the long road." 

The old beggar thrust his hand 

[lO] 



into his bosom among his rags and 
pulled out a pack of cards. 

"Take these," says he, "and when 
you play with them you'll always be 
winner whoever may be playing 
against you. And here's a flour sack 
for you as well. If you meet any- 
thing and want to catch it, just open 
the sack and tell beasts or birds or 
aught else to get into it, and they'll 
do just that, and you can close the 
sack and do with them what you 
will." 

"Thank you kindly," says the sol- 
dier, throws the sack over his 
shoulder, puts the pack of cards in 
his pocket, and trudges off along the 
high road singing an old song. 

He went on and on till he came 
to a lake, where he drank a little 
water to ease his thirst, and smoked 

[II] 



a pipe to put off his hunger, resting 
by the shore of the lake. And there 
on the lake, he saw three wild geese 
swimming far away. *'Now if I 
could catch them!" thought the sol- 
dier, and remembered the sack the 
old beggar had given him. He 
opened the sack and shouted at the 
top of his voice : "Hi! You there, 
you wild geese, come into my sack!" 

And the three wild geese splashed 
up out of the water, and flew to the 
bank and crowded into the sack one 
after the other. 

The soldier tied up the mouth of 
the sack, flung it over his shoulder 
and went on his way. 

He came to a town, and looked for 
a tavern, and chose the best he could 
see, and went in there and asked for 
the landlord. 

[12] 



''See here," says he, "here are 
three wild geese. I want one of 
them roasted for my dinner. An- 
other I'll give you in exchange for a 
bottle of vodka. The third you shall 
have to pay you for your trouble." 

The landlord agreed, as well he 
might, and presently the soldier was 
seated at a good table near a win- 
dow, with a whole bottle of the best 
vodka, and a fine roast goose fresh 
from the kitchen. 

When he had made an end of the 
goose, the soldier laid down his knife 
and fork, tipped the last drops of the 
vodka down his throat, and set the 
bottle upside down upon the table. 
Then he lit his little pipe, sat back 
on the bench and took a look out of 
the window to see what was doing In 
the town. 

[13] 



And there on the other side of 
the road was a fine palace, well 
carved and painted. A year's work 
had gone to the carving of every 
doorpost and window-frame. But 
in all the palace there was not one 
whole pane of glass. 

"Landlord," says the soldier, "tell 
me what's the meaning of this?' 
Why is a fine palace like that stand- 
ing empty with broken windows?" 

"It's a good enough palace," says 
the landlord. "The Tzar built the 
palace for himself, but there's no liv- 
ing in it because of the devils." 

"Devils?" says the soldier. 

"Devils," says the landlord. 
"Every night they crowd into the 
palace, and, what with their shout- 
ing and yelling and screaming and 

[14] 



playing cards, and all the other devil- 
ries that come Into their heads, 
there's no living In the palace for 
decent folk." 

"And does nobody clear them 
out?" asks the soldier. 

"Easier said than done," says the 
landlord. 

Well, with that the soldier wishes 
good health to the landlord, and sets 
off to see the Tzar. He comes walk- 
ing Into the Tzar's house and gives 
him a salute. 

"Your Majesty," says he, "will you 
give me leave to spend one night In 
your empty palace?" 

"God bless you," says the Tzar, 
"but you don't know what you are 
asking. Foolhardy folk enough have 
tried to spend a night In that palace. 

[15] 



They went in merry and boasting, 
but not one of them came walking 
out alive in the morning." 

"What of that?" says the soldier. 
"Water won't drown a Russian sol- 
dier, and fire won't burn him. I 
have served God and the Tzar for 
twenty-five years and am not dead. 
A single night in that palace won't 
be the end of me." 

"But I tell you: a man walks in 
there alive in the evening, and in 
the morning the servants have to 
search the floor for the little bits of 
his bones." 

"None the less," says the soldier, 
"if your Majesty will give me 
leave. . . ." 

"Get along with you and God be 
with you," says the Tzar. "Spend 
[i6] 



the night there if you've set your 
heart on it." 

So the soldier came to the palace 
and stepped in, singing through the 
empty rooms. He made himself 
comfortable in the biggest room of 
all, laid his knapsack in a corner and 
hung his sword on a nail, sat down at 
the table, took out his bag of tobacco, 
filled his little pipe, and sat there 
smoking, ready for what might come. 

Twelve o'clock sharp and there 
was a yelling, a shouting, a blowing 
of horns, a scraping of fiddles and 
every other kind of instrument, a 
noise of dancing, of running, of 
stamping, and the palace cram full 
of devils making themselves at home 
as if the place belonged to them. 

''And you, soldier?" cried the 

[17] 



devils "What are you sitting there 
so glum for, smoking your pipe? 
There's smoke enough where we have 
been. Put your pipe in your pocket 
and play a round of cards with us." 

"Right you are," says the soldier, 
"if you'll play with my cards." 

"Deal them out," shouted the 
devils, and the soldier put his pipe 
in his pocket and dealt out the cards, 
while the devils crowded round the 
table fighting for room on the 
benches. 

They played a game and the sol- 
dier won. They played another and 
he won again. The devils were cun- 
ning enough, God knows, but not 
all their cunning could win a single 
game for them. The soldier was 
raking in the money all the time. 
Soon enough the devils had not a 
[i8] 



penny piece between them, and the 
soldier was for putting up his cards 
and Hghting his pipe. Content he 
was, and well he might be, with his 
pockets bulging with money. 

"Stop a minute, soldier," said the 
devils, "we've still got sixty bushels 
of silver and forty of gold. We'll 
play for them if you'll give us time 
to send for them." 

"Let's see the silver," says the 
soldier, and put the cards in his 
pocket. 

Well, they sent a little devil to 
fetch the silver. Sixty times he ran 
out of the room and sixty times he 
came staggering back with a bushel 
of silver on his shoulders. 

The soldier pulled out his cards, 
and they played on, but it was all 
the same. The devils cheated in 

[19] 



every kind of way, but could not win 
a game. 

"Go and fetch the gold," says the 
oldest devil. 

"Aye, aye, grandfather," says the 
little devil, and goes scuttling out of 
the room. Forty times he ran out, 
and forty times he came staggering 
back with a bushel of gold between 
his shoulders. 

They played on. The soldier won 
every game and all the gold, asked if 
they had any more money to lose, 
put his cards in his pocket and lit his 
pipe. 

The devils looked at all the money 
they had lost. It seemed a pity to 
lose all that good silver and gold. 

"Tear him to pieces, brothers," 
they cried, "tear him to pieces, eat 
him and have done!" 

[20] 



The soldier tapped his little pipe 
on the table. 

''First make sure," says he, "who 
eats' whom." And with that he 
whips out his sack, and, says he, to 
the devils, who were all gnashing 
their teeth and making ready to fall 
on him, "what do you call this?" 

"It's a sack," said the devils. 

"Is it?" says the soldier. "Then, 
by the word of God, get into it!" 

And the next minute all those 
devils were tumbling over each other 
and getting into the sack, squeezing 
in one on the top of another until the 
last one had got inside. Then the 
soldier tied up the sack with a good 
double knot, hung it on a nail, and 
lay down to sleep. 

In the morning the Tzar sent his 
servants. 

[21] 



"Go," says the Tzar, "and see 
what has happened to the soldier 
who spent the night in the empty 
palace. If the unclean spirits have 
made an end of him, then you must 
sweep up his bones and make all 
clean." 

The servants came, all ready to la- 
ment for the brave soldier done to 
death by the unclean, and there was 
the soldier walking cheerfully from 
one room to another, smoking his 
little pipe. 

"Well done, soldier! We never 
thought to see you alive. And how 
did you spend the night? How did 
you manage against the devils?" 

"Devils?" says the soldier. "I 
wish all men I have played cards 
against had paid their debts so hon- 
estly. Have a look at the silver and 
[22] 



gold I won from them. Look at 
the heaps of money lying on the 
floor." 

The servants looked at the silver 
and gold and touched it to see if it 
was real. But there was no doubt 
about that. I wish I had more in 
my pocket of the same sort. 

"Now, brothers," said the soldier, 
"off with you as quick as you can, go 
and fetch two blacksmiths here on 
the run. And let them bring with 
them an iron anvil and the two heavi- 
est hammers in the forge." 

The servants asked no questions, 
but hurried to the smithy, and the 
two blacksmiths came running, with 
anvil and hammers. Giants they 
were, the strongest men in all the 
town. 

"Now," says the soldier, "take 

[23] 



that sack from the nail and lay it on 
the anvil and let me see how the 
blacksmiths of this town can set about 
their work." 

The blacksmiths took the sack 
from the nail. 

"Devil take it, what a weight," 
they said to each other. 

And little voices screamed out of 
the sack: "We are good folk. We 
are your own people." 

"Are you?" said the blacksmiths; 
and they laid the sack on the anvil 
and swung the great hammers, up 
and down, up and down, as if they 
were beating out a lump of iron. 

The devils fared badly in there, 
and worse and worse. The ham- 
mers came down as if they were going 
through devils, anvil, earth, and all. 

[24] 



It was more than even devils could 
bear. 

"Have mercy!" they screamed. 
"Have mercy, soldier? Let us out 
again into the world, and we'll never 
forget you world without end. And 
as for this palace. . . . No devil 
shall put the nail of the toe of his 
feet in it. We'll tell them all. Not 
one shall come within a hundred 
miles." 

The soldier let the blacksmiths 
give a few more blows, just for luck. 
Then he stopped them, and untied 
the mouth of the sack. The moment 
he opened it, the devils shot out, and 
fled away to hell without looking 
right or left in their hurry. 

But the soldier was no fool, and 
he grabbed one old devil by the leg. 

[25] 



And the devil hung gibbering, trying 
to get away. The soldier cut the 
devil's hairy wrist to the bone, so 
that the blood flowed, took a pen, 
dipped it in the blood, and gave it to 
the devil. But he never let go of 
his leg. 

"Write," says he, "that you will 
be my faithful servant." 

The old devil screamed and wrig- 
gled, but the soldier gripped him 
tight. There was nothing to be 
done. He wrote and signed in his 
own blood a promise to serve the 
soldier faithfully wherever and when- 
ever there should be need. Then the 
soldier let him go, and he went hop- 
ping and screaming after the others, 
and had disappeared in a moment. 

And so the devils went rushing 
down to hell, aching in every bone 

[26] 



of their hairy bodies. And they 
called all the other unclean spirits, 
old and young, big and little, and 
told what had happened to them. 
And they set sentinels all round hell, 
and guards at every gate, and or- 
dered them to watch well, and, what- 
ever they did, not on any account 
to let in the soldier with the flour 
sack. 

The soldier went to the Tzar and 
told him how he had dealt with the 
devils, and how henceforth no devil 
would set foot within a hundred 
miles of the palace. 

''If that's so," says the Tzar, 
"we'll move at once, and go and live 
there, you shall live with me and be 
honoured as my own brother." 
And with that there was a great to 
do shifting the bedding and tables 

[27] 



and benches and all else from the 
old palace to the new, and the soldier 
set up house with the Tzar, living 
with him as his own brother, and 
wearing fine clothes with gold em- 
broidery, and eating the same food 
as the Tzar, and as much of it as he 
liked. Money to spend he had, for 
he had won from the devils enough 
to last even a spending man a thou- 
sand years. And he had nothing to 
spend it on. Hens don't eat gold. 
No more do mice. And there the 
money lay in a corner till the soldier 
was tired of looking at it. 

So the soldier thought he would 
marry. And he took a wife, and in 
a year's time God gave him a son, 
and he had nothing to wish for ex- 
cept to see the son grow up and turn 
into a general. 

[28] 



But It so happened that the little 
boy fell ill, and what was the matter 
with him no one knew. He grew 
worse and worse from day to day, 
and the Tzar sent for every doctor 
in the country, but not one of them 
did him a half-penny-worth of good. 
The doctors grew richer and the boy 
grew no better but worse, as is often 
the way. 

The soldier had almost given up 
hope of saving his son when he re- 
membered the old devil who had 
signed a promise written in his own 
blood to serve the soldier faithfully 
wherever and whenever there should 
be need. He remembered this, and 
said to himself: "Where the devil 
has my old devil hidden himself all 
this time." 

And he had scarcely said this when 

[29] 



suddenly there was the little old devil 
^standing in front of him, dressed like 
a peasant in a little shirt and 
breeches, trembling with fright and 
asking: "How can I serve you Ex- 
cellency?" 

"See here," says the soldier. "My 
son is ill. Do you happen to know 
how to cure him?" 

The little old devil took a glass 
from his pocket and filled it with 
cold water and set it on the sick 
child's forehead. 

"Come here, your Excellency," 
says he, "and look into the glass of 
water." 

The soldier came and looked in the 
glass. 

"And what does your Excellency 
see?" asked the little old devil, who 
was so much afraid of the soldier 

[30] 



that he trembled and could hardly 
speak. 

"I see Death, like a little old 
woman, standing at my son's feet." 

"Be easy," says the little old 
devil, "for if Death is standing at 
your son's feet he will be well again. 
But if Death were standing at his 
head then nothing could save him." 

And with that the little old devil 
lifted the glass and splashed the cold 
water over the sick child, and the 
next minute there was the little boy 
crawling about and laughing and 
crowing as if he had never been sick 
in his life. 

"Give me that glass," says the sol- 
dier, "and we'll cry quits." 

The little old devil gave him the 
glass. And the soldier gave back the 
promise which the devil had signed 

[31] 



In his own blood. As soon as the 
little old devil had that promise in 
his hand he gave one look at the 
soldier and fled away as if the black- 
smiths had only that minute stopped 
beating him on the anvil. 

And the soldier after that set up 
as a wise man and put all the doctors 
out of business, curing the boyars and 
generals. He would just look in his 
glass, and if Death stood at a sick 
man's feet, he threw the water over 
him and cured him. If Death stood 
at the sick man's head, he said: It's 
all up with you," and the sick man 
died as sure as fate. 

All went well until the Tzar him- 
self fell ill and sent for the soldier 
to cure him. 

The soldier went in, and the Tzar 
greeted him as his own brother, and 

[32] 



prayed him to be quick, as he felt 
the sickness growing upon him as he 
lay. The soldier poured cold water 
in the glass, and set it on the Tzar's 
forehead, and looked and looked 
again, and saw Death standing at the 
Tzar's head. 

"O Tzar," says the soldier, "it's 
«ill up with you. Death is waiting 
by your head, and you have but a 
few minutes left to live." 

"What?" cries the Tzar, "you 
cure my boyars and generals and you 
will not cure me who am Tzar, and 
have treated you as my own born 
brother. If I've only a few minutes 
to live I've time enough to give or- 
ders for you to be beheaded." 

The soldier thought and thought, 
and he begged Death: "O Death," 
says he, "give my life to the Tzar 

[33] 



and kill me instead. Better to die 
so than to end by being shamefully 
beheaded!" 

He looked once more in the glass, 
and saw that the little old woman 
Death had shifted from the Tzar's 
head and was now standing at his 
feet. He picked up the glass and 
splashed the water over the Tzar, 
and there was the Tzar as well and 
healthy as ever he had been. 

"You are my own true brother af- 
ter all," says the Tzar. "Let us go 
and feast together." 

But the soldier shook in all his 
limbs and could hardly stand, and he 
knew that his time was come. He 
prayed Death: "O Death, give me 
just one hour to say good-bye to my 
wife and my little son." 

"Hurry up!" says Death. 

[34] 



And the soldier hurried to his 
room in the palace, said good-bye to 
his wife, told his son to grow up and 
be a general, lay down on his bed and 
grew iller every minute. 

He looked, and there was Death, 
a little old woman, standing by his 
bedside. 

"Well, soldier," says Death, "you 
have only two minutes left to live !" 

The soldier groaned, and, turning 
in bed, pulled the flour sack from un- 
der his pillow and opened it. 

"Do you know what this is?" says 
the soldier. 

"A sack," says Death. 

"Well, if it is a sack, get into it!" 
says the soldier. 

Death was into the sack In a mo- 
ment, and the soldier leapt from his 
bed well and strong, tied up the sack 

[35] 



with two double knots, flung it over 
his shoulder and set out for the deep 
forest of Brian, which is the thickest 
in all the world. He came to the 
forest and made his way into the 
middle of it, hung the sack from the 
topmost branches of a high poplar 
tree, left it there and came home sing- 
ing songs at the top of his voice and 
full of all kinds of merriment. 

From that time on there was no 
dying in the world. There were 
births every day, and plenty of them, 
but nobody died. It was a poor 
time for doctors. And so it was for 
many years. Death had come to an 
end, and it was as if all men would 
live for ever. And all the time the 
little old woman, Death, tied up in 
a sack, unable to get about her busi- 
ness, was hanging from the top of a 

[36] 



tall poplar tree away in Brian forest. 

And then, one day, the soldier was 
walking out to take the air, and he 
met an ancient old crone, so old and 
so ancient that she was like to fall 
whichever way the wind blew. She 
tottered along, blown this way and 
that, like a blade of withered grass. 

"What an old hag," said the sol- 
dier to himself. "It was time for 
her to die a many years ago." 

"Yes," says the old crone, with her 
toothless gums mumbling and grum- 
bling over her words. "Long ago 
it was time for me to die. When you 
shut up Death in the sack I had only 
an hour left to live. I had done 
with the world, and the world had 
done with me, and I would have been 
glad to be at peace. Long ago my 
place in heaven was made ready, and 

[37] 



Is empty to this day for I cannot die. 
You, soldier, have sinned before God 
and before man. You have sinned 
a sin that God will not forgive. I 
am not the only soul in the world 
who is tortured as I am. Mine is 
not the only place that Is growing 
dusty in heaven. Hundreds and 
thousands of us who should have 
died drag on in misery about the 
world. And but for you we should 
now be resting in peace." 

The soldier began to think. And 
he thought of all the other old men 
and women he had kept from the rest 
that God had made ready for them. 
"There is no doubt about it," thinks 
he; "I had better let Death loose 
again. No matter if I am the first 
of whom she makes an end. I have 
sinned many sins, not counting this 

[38] 



one. Better go to the other world 
now and bear my punishment while I 
am strong, for when I am very old 
it will come worse to me to be tor- 
tured." 

So he set off to the forest of Brian, 
which is the thickest in all the world. 
He found the poplar tree, and saw 
the sack hanging from the topmost 
branches, swinging this way and that 
as wind blew. 

"Well, Death, are you alive up 
there?" the soldier shouted against 
the wind. 

And a little voice, hardly to be 
heard, answered from the sack: 
"AHve, Httle father!" 

So the soldier climbed up the tree, 
took down the sack, and carried it 
home over his shoulder. He said 
good-bye to his wife and his son, 

[39] 



who was now a fine young lad. 
Then he went into his own room, 
opened the bag, lay down upon the 
bed, and begged Death to make an 
end of him. 

And Death, in the form of a little 
old woman, crept trembling out of 
the sack, looking this way and that, 
for she was very much afraid. As 
soon as she saw the soldier she bolted 
through the door, and ran away as 
fast as her little old legs could carry 
her. "The devils can make an end 
of you if they like," she shrieked, 
"but you don't catch me taking a 
hand in it." 

The soldier sat up on the bed and 
knew that he was alive and well. 
Troubled he was as to what to do 
next. Thinks he: I'd better get 
straight along to hell, and let the 

[40] 



devils throw me Into the boiling 
pitch, and stew me until all my sins 
are stewed out of me." 

So he said good-bye to everybody, 
took his sack in his hands and set off 
to hell by the best road he could find. 

Well, he walked on and on, over 
hill and valley and through the deep 
forest, until he came at last to the 
kingdom of the unclean. There were 
the walls of hell and the gates of 
hell, and as he looked he saw that 
sentinels were standing at every gate. 

As soon as he came near a gate 
the devil doing sentry go calls out: 

"Who goes there?" 

"A sinful soul come to you to be 
stewed in the boiling pitch." 

"And what is that you've got in 
your hand?" 

"A sack." 

[41] 



And the devil yelled out at the 
top of his voice and gave the alarm. 
From all sides the unclean rushed up 
and began closing every gate and win- 
dow in hell with strong bolts and 
bars. 

And the soldier walked round hell 
outside the walls, unable to get in. 

He cried out to the Prince of 
Hell: 

"Let me into hell, I beg you. I 
have come to you to be tormented, 
because I have sinned before God and 
before man." 

"No," shouted the Prince of Hell, 
"I won't let you in. Go away. Go 
away, I tell you. Go away anywhere 
you like. There's no place for you 
here." 

The soldier was more troubled 
than ever. 

[42] 



"Well," says he, "if you won't let 
me in, you won't. I'll go away if you 
will give me two hundred sinful souls. 
I will take them to God, and perhaps, 
when he sees them, he will forgive 
me and let me into heaven." 

"I'll throw in another fifty," says 
the Prince of Hell, "if only you'll 
get away from here." 

And he told the lesser devils to 
count out two hundred and fifty sin- 
ful souls and to let them out quickly 
at one of the back doors of hell, 
while he held the soldier in talk, so 
that the soldier should not slip in 
while the sinful souls were going 
out. 

It was done, and the soldier set 
off for heaven with two hundred and 
fifty sinful souls behind him, march- 
ing in column of route, as the soldier 

[43] 



made them for the sake of order and 
decency. 

Well, they marched on and on, and 
In the end they came to heaven, and 
stopped before the very gates of 
Paradise. 

And the holy apostles, standing In 
the gateway of Paradise, said: "Who 
are you?" 

"I am the soldier who hung Death 
in a sack, and I have brought two 
hundred and fifty sinful souls from 
hell in hope that God will pardon 
my sins and let me into Paradise." 

And the apostles went to the Lord, 
and told him that the soldier had 
come, and brought with him two hun- 
dred and fifty sinful souls. 

And God said: "Let in the sinful 
souls, but do not let in the soldier." 

The apostles went back to the gate- 

[44] 



way, and opened the gates and told 
the souls they might come In. But 
when the soldier tried to march in 
at the head of his company they 
stopped him, and said: "No, soldier I 
There's no place for you here." 

So the soldier took one of the sin- 
ful souls aside and gave that soul his 
sack, and told him: "As soon as you 
are through the gates of Paradise, 
open the sack and shout out 'Into the 
sack, soldier !' You will do this be- 
cause I brought you here from hell." 

And the sinful soul promised to do 
this for the soldier. 

But when that sinful soul went 
through the gates Into Paradise, for 
very joy It forgot about the soldier, 
and threw away the sack somewhere 
In Paradise, where It may be lying 
to this day. 

[45] 



And so the soldier, after waiting 
a long time, went slowly back to 
earth. Death would not take him. 
There was no place for him In Para- 
dise and no place for him In hell. 
For all I know he may be living yet. 



[46] 



